


Stolen Moments

by orphan_account



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/F, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Reflection, Season/Series 01, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They share stolen moments, and Shion tries not to wish for more.
Relationships: Karanomori Shion/Kunizuka Yayoi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Stolen Moments

They share stolen moments, fleeting minutes snatched from time’s selfish pace – tucked away into the dim corner of a dirty staircase that no-one ever cleans, or perhaps in Shion’s office, splayed across the couch in a tangle of naked limbs. They’re on full view for the cameras that keep watch over every inch of space, every second of every minute. Shion and Kunizuka are used to it by now. Neither of them cares.

They can’t. That sort of luxury isn’t theirs.

But then Kunizuka is gone without so much as a goodbye, always at the last second of the last minute of their break. She faces the wall as she dresses; Shion stays on the couch, watching the shape of her body as she lights a cigarette. Remnants of wetness glisten against the soft skin of Kunizuka’s thighs when she bends down to pull up her short skirt.

Bringing the cigarette to her lips, Shion thinks she can still taste her, a bittersweet musk that lingers at the tip of her tongue. She wonders if Kunizuka is thinking about her, too.

Shion could ask, but it would break the moment. Prolong it. An irregularity in their clockwork routine. Or perhaps Shion is simply not that brave. So she sighs and smokes, instead.

Kunizuka leaves with efficiency – a toss of hair over her shoulder, click-clacking heels. A pause at the door to turn and nod Shion’s way, then she’s gone, nimble fingers still buttoning her blazer. They’re going to get caught by someone they actually know one of these days.

Then again, neither of them cares.

And so Shion is left behind just like that, splayed across the couch in nothing but lace panties and flimsy stockings draped around her ankles. It’s cold, so cold on the worn leather without another body intertwined in hers. Shion’s nipples are pert, not because of arousal now, but she tugs one anyway. It’s oversensitive, reddened with attention from Kunizuka’s lips and teeth and tongue.

But it hurts instead of feeling good, so Shion tucks her breasts into her discarded bra, and then dresses the rest of herself.

It’s over, this stolen moment.

And yet Shion keeps tasting Kunizuka’s flavour mingled with her cigarette; smells the perfume that lingers in her wake. She notices the dampness of their need on the couch. It will be a while until it fades.

Sometimes, Shion cries, mascara-coloured tears streaking down her cheeks, dripping into the ashtray alongside burnt embers. _Yayoi_ , she mouths, and wonders whether there’ll be a day when they call each other by their first names.

She can’t imagine it, though. Or perhaps Shion is simply not that brave. So she sighs and smokes, instead.

Stolen moments. Maybe they’re for the best. Their bodies must confess enough, anyway.


End file.
